Kneel
by LadyFangs
Summary: The Empire rules with absolute authority, and those who refuse to submit, are destroyed.
1. Chapter 1

**Kneel**

**By LadyFangs**

This world is different.

The federation does not exist. Democracy is a failed ideal whose demise has given birth to anarchy, now controlled by unflinching absolutism.

We are called the Empire. We rule with authority, control with force. Those who oppose us are destroyed. We have made ourselves known throughout the galaxy.

There is no compromise here, only submission.

Those who choose not to submit are destroyed. There are no exceptions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter I**

**Kirk**

There are two types of people in this world: the weak, and the strong. But the strong, don't know they are weak, and the weak, have not figured out their strength.

James Kirk believes himself to be strong. He has done what was needed in order to obtain his own needs. He has killed—the trail of blood on his hands could wrap around the world twice.

He has lied without conscience, without guilt, without feeling.

He has sworn allegiance only as a means to an end.

Women are expendable, to be used and consumed. He is only for himself, and it has served him well.

Now, after years of scheming, his ultimate goal is within reach.

It is the opportunity he has been waiting for—an assignment to The Enterprise.

She is as beautiful as she is lethal, the Empire's ultimate killing machine. To serve her is considered the greatest honor, IF you survive.

Her crew is made up of the most skilled murderers the Empire has created. They are the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Her Captain is legend.

But it is not enough for Kirk to serve on the Enterprise. He wants to take control.

As he steps onto the dirty platform Earth-side a trio of soldiers salute. He salutes back, as a blur of white light engulfs him. In a moment, he is gone. When he materializes again, the walls are equally as bright, the platform gleams, guards salute.

In that moment, Kirk has arrived. The Enterprise is before him, ready for her new master.

**Spock**

They have an alliance. It does not matter how it has come about, nor do the details of their agreement need to be known. It is acknowledged they are a team, and it has served them well.

He is a strategist, a skill that has allowed him to climb through the ranks of the Imperial Starfleet. He has brought them riches and worlds, and been greatly rewarded for his cunning.

Spock does not, nor has he ever desired a captaincy. But the offer was too great to refuse.

The Enterprise had a captain, but was in need of a First Officer. He was well aware of the ship's reputation, and intrigued by its leader, a dominant female that seemed, to him, in need of a dominant male. A mate, a balance.

He could feel the flames behind his eyes. The heat pulsing through his skin. SHE was his ultimate goal. A means to an end of the fire…or so he thought.

Now, years later, the flames still lick behind his eyes. The bond is unbreakable. He has not regretted this decision. He is content to be First Officer. He will protect his mate, but he will not get in her way. He is satisfied to watch her thrive; she submits to no one. It gives him satisfaction to know he is the exception.

She is his, and his alone.

He will kill for her and has done so many times before. He does not need her words to know she feels the same. The only will she submits to is his.

**Captain Nyota Uhura**

Many have tried, and none have conquered.

This world is harsh on women. She knows this. She has had to fight all of her life. She has the scars to prove it. Her skin, while smooth, is not unblemished. Each wound has its own story—an experience, a lesson learned through the blood she has shed.

Yet along the way, she has refused to surrender.

She has watched her sisters become slaves to men inferior to them, relegated to that position because of their gender. She has watched her brothers become monsters instead of men—a sad privilege granted to them because of their sex.

She has watched, and listened, and learned. And so, when her time came, she knew the game even before it had begun.

In the Imperial academy she excelled academically; but that did not matter all that much. What counted, she learned, was ruthlessness and she had it in spades. It only took one—the first of many who would continue to test her will. He came in the night believing her to be vulnerable. It was apparent he had done this many times before. And while she knew she would never be thanked—the females were often deadlier than the male—she knew it couldn't go on. And so, as he hovered above her, his breath hot and harsh against her neck, she feigned sleep, until opportunity presented itself.

He came to her room a male. He left an eunuch. To this day, she keeps her prize in a stasis jar beside her bed. A warning. A promise, and Nyota Uhura, Captain of the ISS Enterprise, ALWAYS keeps her promises.


	3. Chapter 3

**II**

Kirk is momentarily surprised when he materializes on the transporter platform to find only one person in the room. He does his best not to smirk as he steps down. Now that he knows the Captain of the ISS Enterprise is a woman—he sees his goal of a captaincy becoming easier to obtain. He does not even stop to think how she came to achieve the position—or what has allowed her to retain it for so long.

He salutes her, provides her his personnel file, and waits to be assigned. She turns her back to him, her eyes scanning the PADD before her, absorbing the information quickly.

She has given him an opportunity. He did not expect this so fast. But Kirk does not shy away from opportunity, and so he takes it. He does not see the dark figure that steps out from the side of the room, seemingly, out of nowhere.

He only catches a glimpse of this new figure, before he feels a slight pressure at the base of his neck and shoulder. His body goes stiff, immobile, and for a moment, he cannot speak, or feel. But the numbness is only temporary, followed by the sensation of being cut by a thousand knives, and having lava poured into them. He screams in terror as his vision goes white.

The last thing he sees, are her wide, dark eyes, and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. He collapses into darkness.

**…..**

"Kneel."

The staccato pulse of her footsteps ricochets off stone walls like phaser fire.

He lunges forward, screaming as he tries to attack, but she side-steps, her movements quick and elegant, deceitful in their simplicity and taunting in their callousness.

She ducks quickly, turns and kicks. As he straightens himself and turns, his face collides with the bottom of one of her shiny, black boots, and he is thrown against the wall.

It is only the two of them in this cell, and while he is clearly larger, she is stealthy—and, he is quickly learning, skilled.

But Kirk refuses to be defeated. Instead, he too smiles, spitting blood onto the floor. It has been too long since he's been in a real fight—and this one reminds him of the drunken bar brawls he enjoyed in his youth. That his opponent is female does not matter.

They go toe-to-toe, his fists flying, sometimes hitting their mark—but never quite enough to make her go down. But where Kirk is brash—Uhura is more calculating; weighing each strike in terms of force, impact, and damage. She has always been a smart fighter—efficient, rather. She knows where to kick on his chest to cause an arrhythmia. She knows where to punch to inject the most muscle bruising. She knows how to take a hit—if only to allow him to believe he has the upper hand. Not a lot—she certainly doesn't like the bruising afterward—but just enough so that she can begin to work him over, not enough to kill him, but enough so that even the good doctor will be forced to let him heal naturally, something that will takes weeks to recover from.

Kirk is losing speed and strength now, his breathing is labored, his muscles straining as he goes in for the attack once more. He does not know what she's done to him—his mind still cannot process that he is being beaten.

Uhura smiles sweetly at her captive, lifting one long, leather-clad brown leg and placing her foot on his chest. She bears down gently at first, admiring the way the heel of her boot digs into his flesh, then harder- the circular imprint marking its target. It teases, it taunts, back-and-forth, harder still. She suddenly withdraws, and then kicks—one final blow to end it all.

The force of the blow knocks him to his knees, as he pants for breath.

She relishes her position of power as she looks down at his still form and licks her full lips slowly, allowing the power high to infiltrate her mind—the control, the domination… it is an aphrodisiac.

Before he can recover, she straddles him, sitting on his chest. She leans forward and whispers words into his ear, before grabbing both of his hands, and chaining them to the wall, before standing.

"Kneel." She says, once more.

He struggles to his knees, as the doors to the cell open and close. Slow, heavy footsteps cause the walls around him to vibrate. Kirk lifts his face, and sees what, or rather who, he missed before.

A Vulcan. _Killers, assassins, torturers...warriors. _

Their race, while members of the Empire, are more feared than any other. Kirk knows at once, how he got to the cell. The shadow that he missed.

"Open your eyes," she commands, as the Vulcan comes to stand behind her. "WATCH."

She turns to face the Vulcan who has joined her, and as Kirk watches, she smiles.

"I was wondering when you would come to join me," she says, raising a hand to run to gently caress the length of a long, elegantly pointed ear.


End file.
